


In Which Wilbur Has a Panic Attack, Techno is a Good Brother, and Phil is on Crutches

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [45]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (pls don't click that it's going to take you somewhere sexual), Broken Bones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Food mentions, Gen, HOld up, Hurt/Comfort, I mean he's okay and on crutches, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, In this case it's during a panic attack and involves the following, Light Angst, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Not in the SMP canon, Panic Attacks, Philza is a Good Dad in this AU, Queer Wilbur Soot, Scars, Scratching, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Shakespeare is referenced, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sort Of, Techno is a good brother, Techno wants to fight some people, but i'm not shoving any other label on there read it as you will, but in the au he's chill, but that he likes guys and girls, by which i mean it isn't specified what he identitifies as, cesear is the murdered one, found family trope, i think, it's ceasar, it's fine though it's just Phil, lol i forgot the fandom first time around and ao3 was like, might make a coffee or something, oh yeah this fic does have food mentions techno brings up ceasar salad, so is tumblr actually, tagging it anyways because I'm too sleep deprived for this, that sounds bad, this thing has been in my WIPs for forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Wilbur has a panic attack after he sees his parents while out with Techno and Phil shopping for new clothes. It reveals some pretty important stuff, and Techno is about to kill someone.No one hurts his family.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson
Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012464
Comments: 7
Kudos: 231





	In Which Wilbur Has a Panic Attack, Techno is a Good Brother, and Phil is on Crutches

**Author's Note:**

> TWs in tags. Please let me know if I missed something and I will update in ASAP. Also, please be aware there are some MAJOR trigger warnings for anyone who has homophobic trauma.  
> This fic is old. I think I started writing it not too long after the fic where Wilbur arrives at Phil’s house was posted.  
> Anyways, let’s get into this!

Techno’s first time witnessing one of his brothers having a panic attack, unfortunately, wasn’t with Tommy.

It was with Wilbur.

It had started out as a normal day, and then they went walking around town. There wasn’t any particular rhyme or reason. If Techno had to guess, Phil was getting pretty restless not doing anything (he’d managed to break his ankle because Wilbur and Techno were being stupid sixteen-year-olds, and now he was on crutches whilst it healed). Well, actually…it was for a specific reason.

Wilbur didn’t have any clothes.

Well, he did have _clothes_ , but he’d been borrowing off of Techno and Phil for six months and suffering in oversized jeans, belted-at-the-ribs, t-shirts-falling-off-the-shoulder silence, ever since he’d come home. The clothes he’d brought with him when he bolted from his family (because they _sucked_ , Techno had decided the moment Phil had mentioned the homophobic parents bit. Seriously, what parent signed on to have a kid, willingly, only to drop them at the moment that kid decided they didn’t like the colours their parents picked out for their non-existent colouring book?) were all ratty, could easily be used to identify him, and/or clearly didn’t have the best memories associated with them. A few were salvageable, and Phil had asked his wife and some family friends to help fix them. If Techno were being honest…he wasn’t sure Wilbur was left with much.

Earlier, he had been helping Wilbur set up his room. The young man had indeed decided to stay with them, and Phil was working on the paperwork with some friends. If things came to a bad lead, and the couple (they weren’t Wil’s parents, not after the stunts they had pulled.) decided to try and sue, well…good thing Phil knew some pretty good lawyers. Still, as Techno looked in the box of Wilbur’s belongings, holding some of the little knick-knacks he’d grabbed, he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. There were a few horse figurines, some little Minecraft figures, and a few necklaces. “What were you going to do with the necklaces, Wilbur?” He asked, holding up what appeared to be actual gold and a little diamond on a tangled chain. The box had been tossed around.

Glancing down, Wilbur grabbed one of the horses—a brown one with white splotches—and set it on the little shelf on the wall. “Sell it. It’s actual gold, and that’s…it’s not some kind of diamond, but whatever it is, it’s white and it’s worth something. All of those were meant to be part of my inheritance, something to give my wife or fiancée.” Taking a breath, he forced out, “Mom didn’t seem so happy when I told her that I’m not perfectly, ramrod straight. As if I’m not just as likely to date a woman as I am a man.”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed and he glared at the wall, fist tightening like he was picturing something causing his problems.

If Techno had to guess, it was probably Wilbur’s own face—he didn’t seem like he held resentment for his parents. Just himself. It was a dangerous combination.

Still, Techno had said nothing at the time.

+++

About two hours into the walk around some of the shops, Phil limping in front of them with the speed a man on crutches probably shouldn’t sustain, they ran into problems.

A woman with curly dark hair and a man with Wilbur’s height were talking to some of the store owners. Right next to Techno, Wilbur stiffened up. Techno glanced over, clocked the people standing there, and then straightened up as much as he could, grabbing the hood of Wilbur’s borrowed jacket and throwing it over his head as he slung an arm over slumped shoulders. “I can’t _believe_ Sam would _do_ something like that. Who does he think he is?” He asked loudly, letting out a sharp laugh. Was he nervous? Hell yeah. Did he care? Not when Wilbur was in that kind of state.

The adults barely spared him a passing glance as he continued with some crapshoot, spur-of-the-moment story about some stuff he and a friend had did when they were younger. Of course, he switched the names around, kept the pair in his peripheral until they had turned a corner. Then, he looked over at Wilbur. “Thank you.” Wilbur whispered, and Techno nodded.

+++

It all went to the dumps when they got home.

For someone who’d just seen his parents in public—the parents who’d made him feel so unsafe Wilbur decided it was better to _leave_ than to stay—Wilbur held everything together remarkably well. They finished their walk, got to the car, and he just shut down. Sure, it wasn’t the best option, but he apparently felt safe around Phil and Techno. Enough so that he was able to just listen to music and look at the window without saying too much.

And then they walked in the door, and Wilbur headed to his room _immediately,_ and Techno knew this wouldn’t be good.

When he followed him, he saw Wilbur quickly pacing his room, breath coming in sharp and short spurts, hands running up into his hair before quickly leaving to scratch at his arms.

And not just scratch. Wilbur didn’t have long nails by any means, but they weren’t clipped short and he picked at them a lot, leaving jagged edges. Ones that, currently, were leaving bright red stripes along the outsides where he’d rolled his sleeves up. Thin pink scars traced along the insides of his wrists, some older than others. For the moment, though, Techno tucked that information away.

“Wilbur—” Turning. Wilbur stared at him for a second.

“Oh. Hi, Techno.” He was too calm. He was _way too calm_ for someone _clearly_ having some form of a panic attack. _Trained response. He’s fighting it._ The way Wilbur was practically clawing his arms showed that. Not every panic attack had to be the same, had to involve hyperventilating and crying. He’d been briefed on it a thousand times, yes, Phil had told him, but there was a difference between _knowing_ something and _seeing it._

“Wilbur, why don’t you sit down?” Techno asked, moving to walk over. Flinching back, Wilbur watched him for a split second before that weak smile came back. _Not good. Still not good. Think, Techno, keep him long enough for Phil to do whatever he needs to do and come up here._ He took a breath and kept working on doing damage control as best as he could.

All he needed to do was buy a little time.

“No, Te—Techno, I think—I think I’ll be alright, thank you.” Wilbur’s eyes darted around the room. Glancing back, Techno moved several steps away from the door, allowing enough space that Wilbur would be able to get out if he wanted or needed to. Instead of remaining standing, he sat down in the chair at Wilbur’s desk. Even if it didn’t do much, Techno noticed the slight easing of tension around his shoulders, and how the scratching didn’t continue. _Don’t make him feel trapped. Give him space. You’re only here if he wants you to be._

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wilbur shrugged, still pacing. “Was it your parents?” There was a pause. Without really thinking, Techno got up and strode over, reaching for his shoulder and then pausing. “They’re monsters, Wilbur. They made you leave. None of that’s your fault.” _Am I saying the right thing? Or is it the wrong one? What if I’m messing up somehow._

Chuckling bitterly, Wilbur mused, “Even monsters have a heart that yearns to beat, Techno. I fear I am no different than they are.”

“But even monsters feel the need to breathe.” Setting a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, Techno met his gaze. Tears rolled down Wilbur’s cheeks. “They have called you a beast before they had a cause.” Blinking, Wilbur looked away, shoulders jerking with hitched breaths.

“But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.” Looking over, panting, Wilbur mused, “ _Merchant of Venice._ Shakespeare.” His gaze wandered over Techno. “I never thought you to be the kind of person to memorise Shakespeare.”

Shrugging, Techno mused, “He wrote a play about a corrupt government leader with a salad named after him being stabbed to death, of course I’d pay attention.” Tilting his head, he asked, “What else did your parents say to you?”

Laughing, Wilbur went over to his bed and flopped back on it with a slight grunt. He held up a hand and started counting, “They claimed I wasn’t ‘acting like a Soot’, wasn’t ‘acting like Wilbur’, not acting like their son. Told me being nonstraight was an _“issue”_ and it needed to be _“resolved”_. They dragged me out of the closet. Read my texts to a friend after I told them that I was helping the GSA. It took me a while to remember that they were calling my actions manipulative, pathetic, weak, and mean, and not me.”

“I can understand why. That was all the same night?” Wilbur glanced over as Techno sat down. “Wilbur.”

“It was. Well, the outing and the four insults about the GSA. They didn’t really like that.” Dark eyes wandering to the lazy twisting of the ceiling fan, Wilbur mused, “My dad and I were walking into a craft store. We were running some errand, I think. And dad…brought up this person from his past.”

“A partner?”

“No. Abusive stepmom. His other stepmom and his mom’s new husband are both nice, but…Dad was hurt by people when he was little.” Eyes narrowing, Wilbur mused, “He kept asking me if I thought he and Mom were such bad parents. They’re not. They’re not bad people.”

Frowning, Techno echoed, “They’re _not_ bad people?” Wilbur shook his head. “Wilbur, they hurt you. It doesn’t matter if they were ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people, they hurt you.”

“I hurt them more. Techno, I’m not like you. You just need to exist and you’re _perfect._ I’m just a mistake.”

_What the hell._

_What. The. Hell._ Staring down at him, Techno felt a rush of fury flood up and through him, crashing over everything. It was taking every single ounce of self-control he’d built up over the years not to lash out. Not to _scream_ , to _rage_.

Phil saved him.

“Wilbur.” Knocking on the door, the man walked in. Wilbur tilted his head and looked over at him. Stumbling over the words, Phil awkwardly said, “You are no mistake. Your being…your being queer is not an issue, it doesn’t need to be resolved. Your parents are…have said a lot of awful things to you. No kid should ever think that running away and leaving everything is a better option than staying with family. I’m sorry that things turned out that way for you.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Phil.” Sitting up, Wilbur pulled his knees to his chest and kept his feet off the bed, picking at his laces as he undid his shoes. Phil hobbled over. “It’s not your fault.”

Sitting down beside him, Phil met Wilbur’s gaze. Techno settled down in the chair, crossed his legs and watched.

One day—one day—they wouldn’t have to deal with those people again.

**Author's Note:**

> Awkward ending because I’m super tired. I'm getting a coffee after this and chugging it though I have a lot of fics to finish and no need to sleep because if I do I'm going to have my brain bring up ~trauma~. Time to catch up on the SMP!  
> You ever cathartically listen to “We Didn’t Start the Fire”? Like legitimately it makes me feel better.  
> Now you have some of Wilbur’s backstory! All the stuff he and Tommy have said is parroted from their parents, by the way. Which includes the whole cause of the anxiety attack that Tommy has in “Gosh Doughnut” (the name’s long and I’m lazy sorry y’all)  
> As always, I hope you enjoyed the fic. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope to see you in the next one.


End file.
